Indian Foot Worship Footjob
Leather crops!! Dozens upon dozens of them in every shape and size. My damn pussy is drooling now. I can feel the wetness in my crotch as I walk toward them. Like a moth drawn to a flame I stare at them with the wide eyed wander of a child on Christmas morning. "Does Madame see one that she fancies?" he asks. She sees many of them. I fight to stay calm now. First, the right crop must be chosen, then I must find someone skilled enough to use it on me. It has been so long now. Biting my lip I point to a fine one hanging on the wall just before me. "Excellent choice Madame. Imported you know." He remarks with a sly smile as he hands it to me. My hands seem to tremble as I grasp it. "Virgin leather in a the hand of a whore." What an irony my mind comes up with as I run my fingers up and down the firm shaft as if it were my Master's cock. I hold the flat leather tip against my nostrils and inhale. Like a connoisseur of fine wine, the intoxicating scent of new leather invades my senses. In. The centaurs had wanted the message delivered, knowing that rescue was impossible, and knowing the agony that Hogwarts would feel, realizing that one of their own was at the beginning of what would be the longest night of her life. Now outside the school's doors, McGonnigal sent her own messenger to Dumbledore.Hagrid was deep in the forest, accompanied by a number of students including Ron, Anthony Goldstein, Montague, and Draco. Hagrid knew the forest intimately and was familiar with all its night sounds, and he was rather confident he recognized the faint noise coming closer. But out of an abundance of caution, he signalled his group, everyone immediately moving off the path and a few steps into the forest. In a minute Professor Babbling rounded the bend, accompanied by her group of students. Hagrid announced his presence, and stepped back onto the path, his followers in tow."All students have been ordered back," said Babbling."So she's been found!" exclaimed Hagrid."Not found. She.
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